Forget about Dave Chappelle. Comedy Central has a new comic hitting the small screen who isn't inclined to mysteriously jet off to South Africa anytime soon. Potty-mouthed funnywoman Sarah Silverman stars in a new sitcom, "The Sarah Silverman Program," premiering Thursday, Feb. 1 at 10:30 p.m. As a modern-day queen of mean, Silverman pushes the boundaries of political correctness to their limit, avoiding complete offensiveness by banking on her innocent looks and a knack for faking naivete.
Silverman plays herself, albeit as a character who doesn't have a job and hardly ever acts in the interest of anyone but herself. However, Silverman's wrongdoing is borne less from malevolence than plain old ignorance. Looking to cross the street during a wheelchair marathon, Silverman asks, "What's this, some kind anti-leg protest?"
The show is almost a miniaturized version of her 2005 film "Sarah Silverman: Jesus is Magic." But while the film was stand-up-heavy, the sitcom is a scripted narrative filmed in a single-camera format. By using a weekly format, the show can mine humor in the development of dynamic supporting characters and since each episode is only a half-hour, Silverman's shtick doesn't get tiresome.
The actress is going to fit in well on a cable network that has the guts to air shows like "Reno 911!" and "The Colbert Report." Comedy Central is no HBO, so content can't get too inappropriate, but so what? For a comedienne who uses vulgarity as a mask for social commentary, instead of merely for shock value, this shouldn't be too big an issue.
But don't underestimate the dirty depths that this porcelain-skinned pretty girl can reach. Silverman's comedy is the type of childish yet smart stuff that is a Dartmouth frat boy's wet dream. In a later episode, Silverman enters a place resembling heaven and says to the man approaching her, "Are you God's black friend?" Turns out that this guy is God, and He's got the hots for her. Somehow, Silverman gets away with ludicrous scenes like this without being obnoxious.
"The Sarah Silverman Program" should succeed because it appeals to the same demographic that popularized "South Park." And Silverman's topics are diverse enough that no single group should feel targeted.
The bulk of each episode features scripted sketches that derive their broad humor from sheer absurdity. In the premiere episode, Silverman overdoses on cough syrup while driving. She wakes up from a cartoonish hallucination, complete with twinkling stars and a friendly Loch Ness monster, and finds herself passed out in the middle of a playground.
At its best, "The Sarah Silverman Program" is as ridiculous as "Scrubs" and as witty as "The Office." A few jokes fall flat, but Silverman's charm ensures that nothing is intolerable. For now, "The Sarah Silverman Program" is one of the more worthwhile additions to the laugh track-free sitcom genre.
